Author: Summer

Title: Drain the Glass

Rating: PG-13, for now

Chapter Title: 1-2 Crush

Summary: When Rory Gilmore's broke, she's desperate enough to do anything- even be the nanny to the family of her roommate. But it's the blonde boy she runs into there that makes the story interesting…

Chapter Summary: The secretary's crush… Normandy and Emily go to school… a lecture… Rory and Jordan talk

Disclaimer: Don't own Gilmore Girls, obviously. Um, own Jordan and the rest of the Danvers, as well as Sinclair, Amelie, Corina, and Julianna. Also don't own Procol Harum's One Eye on the Future, One Eye on the Past. Nor do I own The Clash's 1-2 Crush. Basically, I own nothing except my mind's eye. Yes, scary thought. ;)

Author's Note: To Joan and Katherine. Cuz you were there the whole time I wrote this chapter and dealt with my craziness.

Feedback is always appreciated. You guys know me well enough to know I'd never hold back a chapter over it… err, with the exception of Loz and Joan, lol, but it does make an author more enthused. Plus, I'm the kind of person who will comment on good feedback in an author's note, maybe pimp a fic.


My mind don't need it but my body do / A little bit of loving and attention for you / although we're only strangers

The offices of Danvers and Associates were fairly cool for this time of year. Joan Murray leaned back in her office chair, watching as people came through the doors. It was a fairly busy day, and her boss hadn't even shown up yet.

She sighed as the phone rang, picking it up, her annoyance evident in her voice. "Danvers and Associates. How may I direct your call?" she said dully, tapping her fingernails against her desk.

"I need a lawyer," came a female response.

Well, duh. Why else did people call a law office? "What's your case about?" Really, this could be quite pointless.

"Um…" The voice grew quieter, as if the person was ashamed. "I was accused of some petty theft."

Petty theft. Depending on the person, that could be anything from stealing a stick of gum to a new laptop. "Ma'am, the lawyer who handles those cases is sick today. But if you'd like to leave your information…" There was a click on the other end and the call was disconnected.

The door swung open and Joan glanced up to find her boss strolling across the office, smiling and talking to employees as if he hadn't come in nearly two hours late. "Mr. DuGrey," she said as he reached her desk.

Tristan lifted his chin in a gesture meant to be hello. "Joan. Have I gotten any calls?"

She looked at him as if he were insane. "The office opened two hors ago. You've gotten dozens."

Tristan ran a hand through his hair, meeting her gaze. "I'm sorry, Joan. I really am. Emilie missed the bus and the governess had already left for school…" He offered a smile. "I really am sorry, Joan."

Joan raised an eyebrow. It was nearly ten. Even if his little sister had missed the bus, he should've been in before nine. "Oh." She didn't say anything else, simply stared up at him. Tristan had a way of shutting everyone up with that smile of his.

Rory slipped into the seat Jordan had saved for her for the Journalism lecture. Tapping Jordan on the shoulder, she whispered, "What did I miss?"

Jordan held up a finger as she finished jotting down her notes, then glanced at Rory. "Nothing you didn't already know." Still, she handed Rory her notes.

Rory scanned the notes. Privacy violations, morals, ethics. Simple enough. Looking to the front of the room, she noticed a man talking whom she didn't recognize. "Who's that?"

"Dr. James Nolan. He writes for Time."

"Really?" Rory leaned forward to get a closer look at the older man. The overhead lights were reflecting off his glasses, so a good portion of his face wasn't visible under the lights. His hair was both graying and balding, and his stomach was a prominent feature. Certainly not the way she'd pictured a star journalist.

She turned to Jordan, who'd seemed to read her mind. "Hope I don't end up looking like that," Jordan said, bringing a hand to her thick blonde hair.

Rory giggled. The day Jordan lost a strand of hair would be the day the world paid. As much as she loved Jordan, she had to admit she was a bit shallow. Must run in the family.

Normandy raised an eyebrow as the teacher spoke. "See, all words that end in y are changed to ies for the plural. For example, Ally, how do you spell ponies?"

Allison Harris frowned and put her pencil down. "P-O-N-I-E-S."

"Correct." Mrs. Jensen searched the room for her next 'victim.' "Mandy, spell the plural of candy."

Normandy winced at the nickname. "C-A-N-D-I-E-S." Pausing, she added, "But you're wrong."

Mrs. Jensen cross her arms over her chest. "What do you mean I'm wrong? Mandy, I've spoken to you before about this…" she said, her tone holding a warning.

Normandy sighed loudly. She didn't usually have a flair for the dramatic, but she knew it annoyed Mrs. Jensen. The woman was quite the simpleton. "Mrs. Jensen, that rule does not always work, similarly to the i before e rule. Spell the plural of monkey, Mrs. Jensen," she said, her voice almost taunting.

Mrs. Jensen's eyes widened and she glanced away. "Normandy…" her voice was harsh, but quivering.

Normandy leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow. It was strangely satisfying.


Joan sighed as Tristan entered his office. She really shouldn't be working here. It wasn't a good idea. She'd admitted to herself months ago that she was attracted to Tristan. And she didn't want that kind of relationship with her boss. Plus, he was engaged.

The phone rang, pulling her out of her thoughts. "Danvers and Associates. How may I direct your call?" Her voice was too perky, and she wondered if it sounded suspicious.

"Hi, Joan," came a sweet, familiar voice. "It's Amelie. Is Tristan in?"

Joan bit her lip. There was that call she was expecting from her conscience. "Yeah, one minute Amelie." Standing up, she walked into Tristan's office. "Amelie's on the phone. Line 1."

"Thanks, Joan." He smiled, picking up the phone. Joan watched, stepping backwards away from his office, as he greeted his fiancée. Lucky, lucky woman.

"You haven't talked to me much since you moved in with my brother," Jordan complained, dragging Rory from the lecture hall.

Rory shrugged. "I've been busy. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Do something about it." Jordan grinned. "Come to lunch with me."

Rory glanced at the clock. She had a class at 1:30 and the girls got home at 3:00. She had the time. "Okay, but I have to be back here by 1:15." Jordan always ran late. It was better to give her extra time.

"No problem, Rory." Jordan shrugged. "I've actually got to meet up with Brian later."

"Brian? What happened to Ben?" Rory frowned.

"Ben? I dumped him a few days ago. He was too lazy, too boring. Plus, I'm too young to be tied down."

"Eventually that argument's going to get old," Rory warned, meeting Jordan's gaze. "I think you'd like a-"

"Rory, I'm not ready for a serious relationship, the whole nine yards. I'm not big on commitment."

Rory noted the 'drop it' tone in Jade's voice. Holding up her hands as if in defense, she said, "Hey, sorry I brought it up. Lets just go get lunch, okay?"

It was hot outside. Emilie was happy Rory'd had her wear shorts today. She took a sip from her water bottle and ran across the playground to wear Normandy was sitting on a swing.

"Normandy," she greeted, waving.

Normandy glanced up and gestured for Emilie to come closer. "Hi."

Emilie sat down on the swing next to her sister and pushed back with her feet. As she pumped her legs, she glanced over at her sister. "Why aren't you swinging?"

Normandy's feet were planted firmly on the ground. "Didn't feel like it."

Emilie sighed. "Normandy, you're no fun."

"Fun is overrated," she stated simply, pushing herself backward a little. "Happy?" she asked as the swing rocked a little.

Emilie frowned, jumping off her own swing and stepping behind Normandy. Pushing her sister with all her might, she jumped out of the way and grinned. Watching the swing as it gathered speed, she said, "Now I am."

Normandy's only response was a rolling of her eyes.

Rory groaned as the phone rang several hours earlier. Checking the Caller ID, she answered, "You're late."

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry, Rory. Listen, I got tied up at work. I should be home in another hour. Just have Corina make the girls dinner and then put Mandy in charge. She'll make sure Emilie gets her homework done."

Rory smiled in spite of herself. "Okay."

Tristan sighed. "Hey, I really have to go. I'm up to my shoulders in work."

Rory raised an eyebrow. "Your shoulders?"

Tristan laughed. "Um, yeah. I'll see you later, Rory. Bye."

Rory hung up the phone. Great. An extra hour before she could start her work for Journalism class. Hearing a laugh behind her, Rory spun around. Corina stood there, smiling. "Let me guess. Tristan's work running over?"

Rory nodded. "Yep."

"Last time he pulled that one was when he first started dating Amelie."

Rory paused. "You don't think…"

Corina shook her head quickly. "Oh, no. Certainly not. Tristan loves Amelie. I mean, who doesn't? She's such a sweetie."

"Yeah, but…" Considering what Tristan was like in high school, she couldn't put it past him.

"No. I doubt Tristan even thinks he's good enough for Amelie. There's no way he'd do that." Corina shrugged. "Don't worry about it."

"I'm not."

Emilie twirled the mashed potatoes around on her plate, staring at the food. Normandy was acting similarly, staring at the door.

Rory frowned. Both girls had been acting odd since dinner started. "What happened at school?" she asked, wondering if that had anything to do with it.

Emilie shrugged, not glancing up. "Not much."

Rory sighed. "Oh." Now what should she say. Well, might as well be frank. "What's wrong?"

Emilie glanced at Normandy before she spoke, as if for permission. "Tristan promised he'd be home on time tonight."

"Oh." Rory could see that Emilie might be the kind of person to rely on an older sibling, but Normandy seemed too independent.

"He brings us dessert on Wednesdays."

Ah, so there it was. Nothing affects a child more than the promise of food. "He said he'd be home shortly after dinner. You guys could wait a while for dessert, start your homework."

Normandy's eyes widened. "It's done."

Rory bit her lip. She'd probably just insulted Normandy, made her feel she didn't think she was responsible.

Rory met the young brunette's eyes. She'd been a lot like Normandy when she was younger. Not quite as solemn, but as serious. Normandy was actually a lot like her.

They don't need to know / I gotta come clean, I gotta come clean / Ooh, I gotta crush on you